


Mech Pattern Baldness

by flutterpen



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Crack, Gen, Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 09:34:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15264576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flutterpen/pseuds/flutterpen
Summary: Springer wants hair. Based on real-life events.





	Mech Pattern Baldness

Springer looked at the human and her hair, well mostly her hair. It was all he saw actually. Since he was on the back of the couch and she had her back to him.

I could use some hair, he thought. My helm keeps getting cold. He reached out grabbing several strands.

She moved. She had to move just then. “Ouch,” came the loud cry. “Springer stop messing with my hair.” She stood up looking down at him.

I will not show fear, will not show fear, Springer said. Oh, look lovely hair.

She had sat back down typing on her portable computer. He reached up again. Got it, mission accomplished. I’ll just have Ratchet sew it in.

“Springer,” came the sound again. Had she found him out? She stood up turning to look down at him again. “Fine you want to get hot in the helm go ahead have what you have taken, just let it get wrapped around your limbs and find yourself unable to transform.” She lifted him up putting him back on the shelf.

“Ratchet, got a job for ya,” Springer said.

The medic groaned. “What now? Did the cat kick you off the coach again?” he asked coming over with the scanner. “Or try to ride one of the beasts again?”

Springer was known to have done all of the above getting kicked off, losing weapons and limbs. OR riding the animals which mainly consisted of sitting there on the smaller animal. Whereas it was a ride on the larger one, a fast twisting ride.

“Playing bucking bronco again Springer?” the human would ask, Springer thought back to one such ride with fondness and pain.

“No big injuries,” Ratchet said. “What do you need, a head shrink?”

“I want you to give me hair,” Springer said holding out the strands of hair.

Thwap on the back of his helm, another perfect toss of the wrench. “I am not giving you, hair. You don’t need it.” the medic said. Besides they are too long.

Springer dejectedly dropped the strands of hair on the shelf for the other bots to get tangled in. But that is a story for another day.


End file.
